Taking Turns
by WickedForGood13
Summary: Following their loss at Regionals, Kurt and Blaine face a temporary separation at the beginning of the summer. However, when Kurt hears a knock at the door several nights later, who will he find standing on his porch? Rated T for child abuse and language
1. Chapter 1

**I'm all for Blaine being the strong one, but Kurt needs his turn to be there for Blaine. I've seen a lot of stories, following "the kiss," about Blaine being abused and going to Kurt for help. As much as I love romance and happily-ever-after (I agree whole-heartedly with Kurt's line in "Blame It on the Alcohol" about 'sexy' being no more than a brush of the fingertips), all I seem to be able to write lately is angst. So, here's my attempt at an abused Blaine story, set after 'Original Songs.'**

* * *

><p>Eyes softened at the sight of his boyfriend standing beside him. Up there on stage, with Kurt, Blaine truly believed in the words he was singing.<p>

_I think I'll be alright. My life may be shitty at the best of times, but as long as I have Kurt, I'll survive._

The Warblers' two songs ended and Blaine pulled Kurt to him in a bone-crushing hug. Everyone was ecstatic—win or lose, they'd done their best. That was all anyone could ask.

They took their seats in the audience and watched as New Directions took the stage, Rachel standing alone and belting out a heartfelt ballad. During the next song, Blaine thought it was adorable when Kurt jumped to his feet, screaming, as New Directions reached the chorus of 'Loser Like Me.' Lately, Blaine had been noticing how everything Kurt said or did was adorable.

He winced slightly as Finn sang about being pushed against lockers and merely shaking it off, knowing that the songwriters had been talking about Kurt.

The competition over, the three competing teams stood together on stage, Blaine placing a reassuring hand on Kurt's shoulder.

At the news that New Directions had won, Blaine met Kurt's disappointed gaze with a 'What can you do' look, accompanied with a shrug of the shoulders.

Their loss at Regionals was a disappointment, but Blaine and Kurt would come out stronger for having each other.

As they left the stage hand-in-hand, they encountered Burt Hummel and his wife, Carole.

"Dad," Kurt said, voice wavering slightly from nerves, "you remember Blaine?"

"Blaine," Burt said with a curt nod.

"He's my boyfriend," Kurt announced.

"Sir, I'd like to apologize once more for over stepping my boundaries the other day. I had no right to ask you to talk with Kurt about sex," he heard said boy give an audible gasp, "and I realize what this must look like. Let me assure you, my intentions are purely honorable. I didn't understand what my feelings for your son were at the time that I came to talk to you. Now, however, I've realized that I love your son and I promise that I will never pressure him to do anything that would make him uncomfortable or that he isn't ready for."

He stood in silence, feeling Kurt give his hand a reassuring squeeze, while Burt regarded the two of them.

Blaine could feel himself sweating bullets. _Why doesn't he say anything?_ _Do I appear insincere? What does this mean for me…for Kurt…for us?_

Burt finally spoke. "Blaine, I can see that your feelings for Kurt are genuine. Therefore, I accept your apology. You're right, you _were_ overstepping, but I understand that it was out of concern for Kurt. I've seen the change my boy has gone through over the last few months and I have a hunch that he's happier because of you. But know that if you hurt him, I have a fully operable shotgun…"

"Okay, Dad," said Kurt, interrupting Burt's threat to Blaine and stepping between them. "I think you're the one overstepping, now," he warned.

Burt responded by holding out his hand for Blaine to shake. Blaine took it, being sure to have a firm grip. They broke apart to stand by their respective partners.

Carole spoke to Kurt, "Finn said that New Directions was heading to Breadsticks to celebrate. He invited you and Blaine to come along, if you want."

Blaine knew that Kurt had planned to bury Pavarotti when they got back to Dalton.

"That's very kind, Mrs. Hummel. But we have something to do when we get back to Dalton."

At Burt's suspicious look, Kurt spoke up, saying, "I have to bury Pavarotti. He died this week and I want to give him a proper burial."

Burt nodded in understanding. "Alright, kiddo. We'll see you this weekend?"

"Of course, Dad," said Kurt with an eye-roll.

"No funny business," said Burt to Blaine, before moving to embrace Kurt.

"Yes, sir," Blaine replied, respectful as ever.

" 'Burt' is just fine, or 'Mr. Hummel,' if you'd prefer."

"Thank you, Mr. Hummel," said Blaine.

"Goodbye, Kurt. Goodbye, Blaine," said Carole, moving to give each boy a hug.

Blaine gasped slightly at the contact. He was touchy-feely, but only from wanting to assure everyone he came into contact with that they were loved, something he hadn't had a lot of growing up. He wasn't used to his hugs being returned, except by his closest friends.

"Take care of Kurt," Carole whispered into his ear.

"I intend to, Mrs. Hummel," he said.

"You boys all did well. You should be proud of yourselves," Carole said after stepping back, with Burt nodding in agreement.

"Thank you, both," said Kurt, a genuine smile gracing his features. "See you soon."

The two boys watched as Burt and Carole walked away.

Blaine released a breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Well, that went well." When he got no response, he turned to find Kurt staring at him. "What?" he asked, suddenly nervous again.

"You went to my dad and asked him to talk to me about _sex_?" he asked in a strangled whisper.

"Yes?" Blaine replied, nerves making his statement sound like a question.

Kurt huffed. "That was the most embarrassing conversation of my life—but I'm grateful to you. My dad proved again what an amazing guy he is by being so accepting and willing to learn."

"You're lucky," Blaine said, pulling Kurt into a hug.

"I know." Kurt stood back so he could see his boyfriend's face. There was a look of longing in Blaine's eyes. Kurt remedied that by capturing Blaine's lips with his. He sighed contentedly. "Still getting used to being able to do this whenever I want to," he admitted, leaning in for another kiss.

"Same here," said Blaine, returning the favor and kissing Kurt back.

Hearing several throats being cleared, they broke apart and turned to discover the Warblers' standing behind them, Wes and David at the front.

"If you're _quite_ through," said Wes, trying to sound formal and failing due to the smile on his face, "it's time to head back."

Holding hands, Blaine and Kurt followed, making sure to get seats together.

Kurt slid in first, claiming the spot by the window, while Blaine claimed his spot next to him, resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder.

He spent the time thinking of his and Kurt's relationship, how Kurt had never given up on him and had continued to care, even when Blaine had become more human in Kurt's eyes and more of his flaws had become exposed.

Throughout the bus ride, Blaine and Kurt stole kisses when they could, enjoying this new factor in their relationship. They were already close and had been from the first day when Blaine had grabbed Kurt's hand. Now, they could lean over and kiss the other whenever they wanted to.

Blaine shut his eyes in contentment. He could picture his and Kurt's future—not necessarily the when and where, but he could see that they would have a future; they wouldn't fall apart like other couples. They would fight to stay together.

Next thing he knew, Kurt was shaking him awake, saying, "Blaine, we're here."

Groggily, Blaine opened his eyes and stumbled down the bus steps, turning to grab Kurt's hand as they walked into Dalton.

Kurt lowered his eyes, as though afraid to believe in reality, that he was really with Blaine and that Blaine really wanted him.

"Hey," said Blaine, catching Kurt's chin with his hand and tilting his face up so they were level. "What's wrong?" he asked when he noticed the sheen of tears threatening to fall from his boyfriend's eyes.

"It's just…," Kurt began struggling for words.

Blaine held them back from the other Warblers so that they could be alone. He gently pulled on Kurt's hand, encouraging him to follow in a walk around campus. They ended up beneath a scraggly tree, the very same one that Blaine had visited numerous times when he first came to Dalton.

Blaine sat and tugged on Kurt's hand till he sat as well.

"This used to be my spot," he explained. "When I first came to Dalton, I was confused, lost. I'd just run from my bullies and I didn't know anyone. So, I came here to be by myself and think. I purposely isolated myself, and that's another of my many regrets. I'm glad that I can share this place with you, Kurt," he finished, giving Kurt's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Thank you, Blaine," Kurt replied, bending to rest his head on Blaine's shoulder.

"Now, what's troubling you?" asked Blaine.

"I'm upset that we lost Regionals. I really wanted to win. I felt that I had something to prove, to the Warblers, to New Directions, even to myself and to you. New Directions tied at Sectionals—without me. Now, they've won Regionals—again, without me. And then the Warblers lost—with me as a member. I feel as though I'm a curse, frightening everyone and everything away."

Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but Kurt kept talking, "Just now, getting off the bus, I looked down at our hands and I couldn't believe my luck. That someone as amazing as you would ever consider being with someone like me…it's incredible. And I don't want to lose that, I don't want to lose you. But I can't help but be afraid, when it seems like all I ever do is make a mess of things."

Blaine was silent for a moment, taking in all that Kurt had said.

"Kurt," he began. "I want you to listen to me very closely. You are not a curse. You are a wonderful person that anyone would be lucky to know. I'm luckier than most, in that I have you all to myself. Even then, I wonder if I'm enough for you. I have no experience in romance; I have baggage that I'm afraid of burdening you with." At this, Blaine's mind flashed to his father. "I get scared too. I'm scared that you'll find someone better and leave me on my own again. I waited so long before telling you of my feelings, almost too long. I shudder to think of what might have happened if I'd let any more time go by."

Kurt broke in with, "I would still be here, waiting for you."

They held each other's gaze, before Blaine continued, "As for losing Regionals—that had nothing to do with you, in regards to either the Warblers or New Directions. Both groups would have benefitted from using your unique voice long before this performance. If the Warblers had given you a solo at Sectionals, we would have won rather than tied. As for New Directions, they won using original songs, and damn good ones at that, making them pretty hard to beat. We did our best, that's all that anyone can ask."

Kurt met Blaine's eyes with a watery smile.

"You're special, Kurt. Never doubt that," Blaine whispered as they leaned closer together. "And no matter the circumstances, I will always be here for you…as a friend, as a lover…however you want me, I'm yours. I will always fight for you and for us."

With his final vow, Blaine closed the gap and joined his lips with Kurt's.

The boys lost track of how long they sat under the tree, sometimes kissing, sometimes lying in each other's arms, sometimes talking, and sometimes basking in the silence.

It wasn't until Blaine got a text from Wes saying that curfew was in a few minutes that they realized how late it was.

"We should head back," said Blaine regretfully, wanting to spend more time alone with his boyfriend.

"Yeah," Kurt agreed.

They stood, dusting off their pants, before clasping hands and heading inside.

At their bedroom doors, they separated. Being the lead singer had some perks, as Blaine had a single room. Kurt, having transferred in the middle of the year, also got a room to himself. By chance, both rooms were next to each other. For fun, Blaine and Kurt had developed a system of knocks to communicate through the walls.

After going through his moisturizing routine, Kurt went to the wall and gave the knock that meant "Good night." The reply was instantaneous.

Turning down the covers, they each settled into bed, thoughts of the boy next door invading their mind.

* * *

><p>The weeks flew by and before anyone knew it, summer was upon them.<p>

Blaine and Kurt had been together for several blissful weeks. They'd stayed strong, even when Kurt became stressed about finals, snapping if someone even looked at him the wrong way. And when Blaine became so scatterbrained that he had a meltdown when he thought he'd lost his bottle of hair gel, Kurt fought back his laughter and pointed Blaine in the direction of the bathroom sink, where his hair gel always was and would always be.

The last day of school was bittersweet for Kurt. He'd made some wonderful friends at Dalton. Despite a rocky start, he counted Wes and David as two of his best friends, after Blaine and Mercedes, of course.

Blaine was dreading the summer. Not only would he not get to see Kurt every day, but he'd have to go home to his father. Blaine still held painful memories of the summer his dad had tried to turn him straight by fixing a car together.

The two boys clung to each other, Burt having given them a moment to say goodbye.

"Why does it feel like this is the end?" asked Kurt.

"I know what you mean," said Blaine with a wry grin, though, granted, his reasons were surely different from Kurt's. "We'll be together soon, Kurt. This isn't forever. We can drive to meet each other for coffee, just like always, and we can get together with New Directions and the Warblers. This'll be a great summer, you'll see."

Kurt wasn't fooled, though. He could see that Blaine wasn't convinced either.

They turned at the sound of a car horn. It was Burt Hummel, letting Kurt and Blaine know that their time was up.

"Well, I guess this is it," said Kurt bravely.

They hugged once more, before sharing a sweet goodbye kiss.

"See you soon, Kurt," said Blaine, watching as the love of his life got into his dad's car and drove away.

Kurt turned to look out the window, waving to Blaine before he disappeared from sight.

Wisely, Burt Hummel chose not to say anything. He understood that Kurt and Blaine had never been separated for long, not even for a few days. They'd met, and a short time later, Kurt was a student at Dalton. Since then, they'd barely left each other's side—they were each other's best friend.

Kurt remained silent, staring out the window as he relived all of the good times over the last several weeks: the stolen kisses between classes, walking hand-in-hand, Blaine carrying his books for him, the passionate make-out sessions in either of their rooms, and the relief at there being no slushies or slurs, nothing except friendly cat-calls of "Finally" and "Get some!"

While Kurt understood the importance of family time, especially as this was the Hummel-Hudson's first combined summer together, and appreciated the effort being made to act as one unit, he was unhappy at being forced to be away from Blaine. Without him, Kurt felt empty, as though a part of him were missing. As soon as he left, Kurt literally ached to be back in Blaine's warm, strong arms.

Kurt didn't want to disappoint, so he threw himself into bonding with Carole and Finn and getting reacquainted with his dad. One night was spent playing board games. Another night was spent looking through photo albums and sharing stories, reminiscing about the past. Yet another night, they ordered pizza and watched a movie.

It was on this night—a surprisingly cold and stormy night—that they were interrupted by a repetitive thumping, seemingly coming from the front of the house.

Kurt went to investigate. He realized that the noise was someone knocking on the door. Yet the sound was weak, as though the person had little-to-no energy left.

Kurt opened the door to discover—

"Blaine!" he exclaimed, for that's indeed who was standing on the porch, soaked to the skin and sporting a black eye. The rain had loosened his curls from the gel he always plastered on and made his shirt see-through, showing off numerous other bruises.

Blaine had been leaning heavily on the door frame. Now, he moved towards Kurt, and everyone, for Burt, Finn, and Carole had followed and were now crowded around the doorway, could see that that had been all that had been all that was holding him up. Kurt caught him, supporting his weight as he led Blaine inside.

He led Blaine to the couch. Finn hurried ahead to lay down a blanket, keeping the couch dry. Kurt sat and pulled Blaine down with him, keeping an arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders.

"Shh, baby, I've got you. I'm here, you're safe," he whispered over and over again, running his hands through Blaine's hair.

Blaine, for his part, was crying like a newborn baby, great heaving sobs that left him gasping for air.

After giving Blaine several minutes to compose himself, Kurt carefully reached for the buttons to Blaine's shirt. He painstakingly eased the material off, fighting back a wave of nausea at the sight of Blaine's battered body.

The bruises stood out in the harsh light, staining his torso a sick shade of black and blue.

Carole went to work. Having fetched a first aid kit, she set about bandaging his wounds, applying ointment where necessary. Finally, she stood back and allowed Kurt to resume his position by Blaine's side.

Blaine had been silent after his initial crying jag.

"I'm sorry," he now whispered.

"For what?" asked Kurt, glad that Blaine was talking.

"For being a burden. I didn't have anywhere else to go. After he threw me out, all I could think of was you, Kurt, and how much I needed you. So, I walked here."

"Wait, what? Who threw you out? And why didn't you drive?" Kurt was full of questions.

Blaine took a deep breath. 'Courage,' he thought.

"It's not a particularly pleasant story," he warned, before opening up in a way he never had before.

* * *

><p><em>Blaine watched Kurt drive away. When the car was no more than a speck in the distance, he headed for his own car and began the relatively short drive home.<em>

_As he pulled into the expansive driveway of the mansion he called 'home,' he parked and sat for a moment, steeling himself to enter a place that held many painful memories for him._

_Despite coming from a rich family, Blaine had relatively few possessions, so all that was important to him was in his backpack and an overnight bag. Hefting both over his shoulder, he walked up to the front door and let himself in._

_The place was silent, but Blaine knew that that didn't mean anything. His dad could still be lurking around, waiting for him so they could have a little "fun."_

_Blaine quickly made his way up the spiral staircase to his room, depositing his bags in what he called his 'secret place,' a hidden panel that only he knew about and where his stuff would be safe if he ever had to leave in a hurry._

"_BOY!" he suddenly heard. "GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"_

_**And it starts,**__ thought Blaine._

"_Yes, sir?" he asked timidly._

"_So, you're home for the summer," stated George Anderson, a big burly man who Blaine constantly lived in fear of._

"_Yes, sir," said Blaine, stiff as a board, like a soldier standing at attention, with no emotions on his face. One thing he'd learned over the years was to never show fear or anything that might be considered a weakness in his opponent's eyes—in this case, his father._

_Without warning, George struck his son across the face, sending Blaine reeling and crashing into the wall._

"_Don't talk back, boy. Haven't I taught you anything?"_

"_Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," Blaine responded meekly._

"_Shut your face. I've had a hard day at the office and I'm hungry. Fix me dinner."_

"_Yes, sir," said Blaine, moving towards the kitchen. "What would you like?"_

"_Don't ask questions. Figure it out for yourself," said George, going to sit on the couch and watch the football game that was currently playing._

"_Yes, sir," Blaine whispered._

_**When did I get to be like this?**__ Blaine asked himself. __**And why? I know who I am and I'm proud of it. Just because my own father can't accept having a gay son is no reason for him to make me feel worthless.**_

_Blaine set about fixing a steak for his father. He, on the other hand, wouldn't eat until later that night. After his father went to bed, Blaine would sneak downstairs and make himself a sandwich._

_Cooking had become second nature to Blaine, so he allowed his thoughts to wonder to Kurt, a dreamy smile taking over his face as he wondered what his boyfriend was doing at that very moment._

_Blaine was pulled from his thoughts at a sudden burst of pain. He realized that he was too close to the stove and his hand had gotten burnt._

_He gave a yell and darted for the sink, soaking his hand under the cool and soothing water. He heard a hissing noise and turned to find the steak sizzling in the pan. He flipped the steak onto a plate, grateful that it hadn't been burnt, unlike his hand. He shuddered to think what his father would have done to him if he'd ruined dinner._

_Blaine set the food down at his father's place at the table, along with a bottle of beer and the appropriate silverware, before retreating to his room upstairs._

_The next few days passed in this manner: the two generally avoiding each other, with Blaine doing his father's bidding when commanded._

_On the third day of summer (Blaine thought it ironic that something as significant as what took place should occur on the third day, what with his obsession with Disney movies and all), George Anderson stumbled into the house, throwing the door open with a bang and calling loudly for Blaine._

"_BOY!" he hollered at the top of his lungs._

_Blaine slunk down the stairs. Things were always worse when his father had been drinking._

_He had barely set foot off the bottom step before his father swung at him, sending Blaine to the ground._

_George didn't stop there. He began to kick at Blaine, alternating between his stomach and his back, whichever way Blaine happened to be facing._

_Blaine, for his part, lay there and took the abuse. He'd tried fighting before and had only gotten worse than if he took his beatings quietly._

_Finally, George stopped and stood looking down at Blaine, breathing heavily._

"_I'm sick of seeing your face. I want you out of my house!" he said, voice growing in volume._

_Blaine fought back the wave of pain that washed over him to look up at the man who was his father._

"_Dad…," he whispered weakly._

"_We are not related. You're a fag, you're filth, and you're no son of mine!"_

_Blaine tried to hide the tears that had sprung up at his father's words. To be rejected by your only parent…_

_Blaine staggered to his feet. Unfortunately, he couldn't move fast enough to please his father._

_George already had the door open and forcefully pushed Blaine outside. _

_Blaine fell landing in a tangle of limbs. With his injured torso, this was extremely painful. He hurriedly sprang to his feet and began walking, having no idea where to go, just that he had to get away. He didn't even notice the rain that began to fall, mingling with the tears streaming down his face._

_**I'm nothing. I have nowhere to go, no one to love or who loves me. I wish the end would come,**__ were his morbid thoughts as his feet propelled him forwards to an uncertain future._

* * *

><p>"And so I ended up here," Blaine finished. He was hunched over, Kurt rubbing soothing circles onto his back.<p>

"You're staying here tonight, Blaine," said Burt, leaving no room for argument. "There is no way in hell I would send you out in that storm back to that…that…"

"Bastard," Blaine spat out. "I hate him. He ruined my life. My mom died in childbirth. He blames me for that, and he's right. But then when he realized that I was gay—that was the arsenic icing on the already poisoned cake for him. There was no way he could love me if I was something as despicable as a fag—"

Blaine's voice broke, overcome with anguish. Kurt simply held his boyfriend in his arms, offering him comfort through touch.

"Blaine, listen to me. You are not despicable. Whatever lies he's fed you about how being gay is unnatural are completely unjustified. Yes, being gay isn't exactly normal in society's eyes, but that doesn't make it wrong. It doesn't make _**you**_ wrong for being that way. I think you're perfect just the way you are. You're Blaine—the sweet, wonderful, caring, beautiful, amazing man that I've been in love with since hearing you sing 'Teenage Dream.' "

Blaine's sobs were uncontrollable at hearing Kurt's impassioned speech.

"What did I do to deserve you? All I've ever done is run from my bullies or lie down and take whatever my dad chose to throw at me. Then you came along. You've been threatened and assaulted, yet you remained strong. You didn't let fear cloud your judgment—"

"Because of you, Blaine," Kurt interrupted. "You gave me the strength and the courage to carry on when all I wanted was to give up, let the darkness claim me. You saved me, Blaine!"

Done talking for the moment, Kurt went back to holding Blaine, whispering nonsense in his ear, anything to keep him alert and focused on the good things life had to offer, rather than the negative.

Burt, Carole, and Finn had been watching the two boys' exchange with rapt attention.

Now, Burt lowered himself onto the couch next to Blaine.

Acting on instinct and self-preservation, Blaine shrunk away from Burt's imposing figure, seeking to be closer to Kurt.

"Blaine, son," said Burt softly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm sorry that you've gone through what you have. Make our home yours for as long as you need or want. You're always welcome."

"Thank you, sir," Blaine whispered, still a tad fearful, despite common sense telling him that Burt Hummel was no George Anderson and would never lay a hand on him.

" 'Burt,' " he corrected gently.

"Thank you, Burt," Blaine repeated.

"Now, I think it's time you boys were in bed. All of you," he said, talking to Finn as well.

Kurt stood, keeping an arm wrapped around Blaine, touching him in some way to reassure him that he was there and that he wasn't going to leave.

"Blaine's sleeping with me," he announced, silently daring his dad to contradict him.

Taking in the sight of a broken Blaine, Burt made a split-second decision, despite knowing that the two were boyfriends and driven by hormones. He reasoned that neither would be thinking about anything sex-related that night.

"Yes, I think that's for the best," he said.

Kurt stared at him a moment before nodding a silent 'thank you.'

"Come on, Blaine," he said, guiding his boyfriend towards the stairs.

Blaine allowed himself to be led, knowing that he would blindly follow Kurt wherever he wished to go.

Kurt opened the door to his room and moved Blaine so that he was sitting down on his bed.

"I'll get something for you to sleep in," he said, going to his dresser and pulling out an old pair of sweat pants and an oversized t-shirt of Finn's that he had borrowed once.

Handing them to Blaine, he asked, "Will you need any help?"

Blaine stared unseeing in front of him.

"Blaine?" Kurt prompted. "Will you need any help?"

Blaine shook himself out of whatever trance he'd been in.

"No, I'll be fine," he said, and Kurt picked up on the fact that he was referring to more than just getting dressed.

"We can talk when you're done, if you want," said Kurt, giving Blaine a gentle push towards the bathroom.

"Thank you, Kurt," said Blaine, pausing to look back and smile slightly at his boyfriend. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I could say the same thing. Now get into those clothes and we can talk or cuddle or do whatever you want."

With one last smile, Blaine shut the door.

Shakily, Kurt sat down on his bed, the same spot where Blaine had been sitting.

_How long has this been going on?_ thought Kurt. _And why haven't I noticed before now?_

Meanwhile, Blaine was fighting back a panic attack.

_Kurt deserves to hear the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,_ thought Blaine, _which means that I have to start from the beginning, not just from several days ago._

As quickly as he could, Blaine changed into the clothes Kurt had given him.

Exiting the bathroom, he was greeted by Kurt, who immediately attacked his lips, pouring all his feelings into that one lovely kiss.

"Baby, you're amazing and I love you so much!" he whispered, before pulling back.

Blaine drew him into another kiss before guiding them towards the bed.

"I love you too, Kurt," he said, "so fucking much!"

They collapsed onto the bed, Kurt doing his best to support Blaine and see that he didn't hurt himself further.

"You deserve to hear the truth, Kurt," Blaine began after a moment of silence, "from the beginning."

"Blaine, you don't have to—" Kurt interrupted.

"No, I do. I need to tell somebody. Nobody knows, not even Wes or David. And I want you to be the one that I tell. Please, Kurt. Let me?"

Kurt nodded. "Okay. If you're sure…"

"I'm positive," Blaine stated.

They shared a lingering kiss before Blaine gently pushed Kurt away. He moved to sit cross-legged on Kurt's bed. Kurt mimicked his position, facing Blaine and joining their hands together.

"Like I've already said, my mom died giving birth to me. My dad was bitter and hated me from that day on. When I was little, he would spank me, nothing major, and I just thought it was normal, that all dads disciplined their kids that way and that often, usually several times a week."

Kurt squeezed his hand, indicating for him to continue.

"As I got older, probably by the time I was 9 or 10, he started using his belt on me."

Kurt gasped at this, but kept his hands joined with Blaine's.

"This continued for several years, until I was about 12 or 13. It was at this point that I'd realized that I was gay. I came out to my dad and he went ballistic. He started yelling abuse at me before hitting me across the face. That was new; he'd never used his fist before. I fell down and he started kicking me, as though he were trying to beat the gay out of me."

Kurt rubbed Blaine's hands in an effort to calm him down.

"That was the summer that we tried building a car together, his attempt at making me straight. When that failed, he beat me harder. He would punch and kick and use his belt or whatever else was handy…"

Blaine was sobbing by this point.

"And that's my story," he concluded after a moment spent composing himself.

"Blaine, how come no one's ever noticed before? Why haven't you ever gone to anyone?"

"He sent me to Dalton not so much because of the bullying that I'd been experiencing, but because he didn't want to have to deal with me anymore, didn't want to have to acknowledge that his only son was gay. I only see him over the holidays and during the summer. During those times, I'm isolated. By the time I go back to school, I've healed from whatever he's done to me. No signs of any limp or blemish. Well, except for the scars…but that's where having a single room comes in handy. Before Dalton, I had no friends, no one who cared whether I lived or died. So, it wouldn't have mattered if I'd gone to anyone," he finished with a bitter smile.

Tenderly, Kurt cupped Blaine's cheek and leaned in to kiss him.

"I care," he whispered. "I will always care. You gave me courage in my darkest hour. Now it's my turn to do the same for you."

Blaine stared at him. "What did I do to deserve you?" he asked in wonder.

"It's not a question of whether or not you deserve me," replied Kurt. "What you deserve is all the happiness the world has to offer. And if I make you happy, then I'll be around for as long as you'll have me."

"Forever, then," Blaine whispered, drawing Kurt close and lying back onto the pillows.

They lay together, tangled, resting peacefully. Blaine had a content smile on his face, the first Kurt had seen since summer had begun drawing near. Kurt, for his part, watched Blaine sleep, playing with his curls and being mindful of the bandages covering his torso.

Neither knew what the future held, but for the moment, they didn't care. They had each other and that was all that mattered.

Later on, when Burt peeked in to check on the boys, he found them nestled in each other's arms, asleep. Smiling, he backed away quietly, pleased that both boys appeared to have found true love.

* * *

><p><strong>So, this was intended as a one-shot, but if enough people request it, I will consider continuing. Let me know! And don't forget to leave a review =)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine felt warm, safe, protected. He wasn't used to such feelings. As such, when he felt an arm wrap around him, he reacted by curling up in a ball in an effort to protect himself.

"No, Dad. Don't hurt me. I didn't do anything."

"Blaine," he heard. And, just like that, he was brought back to reality by his personal guardian angel.

"Kurt," he croaked, discovering that his throat was sore and parched.

His body relaxed at knowing that he was with Kurt. The previous night came rushing back: his dad coming home drunk, beating him senseless and kicking him out, walking to Kurt's in the pouring rain, being taken in and sharing his story, and, finally, falling into bed with Kurt.

"What time is it?" he rasped out, realizing that all that walking in the rain that he'd done yesterday had probably not been good for his voice.

"About 10 in the morning," Kurt replied. "I brought you some orange juice."

Gratefully, Blaine took the proffered glass and swallowed. It burned going down, but he found it easier to talk afterwards.

"Thank you," he said, smiling shyly up at Kurt.

"How long were you out in the rain yesterday?" asked Kurt as he sat on the edge of his bed, concerned for his boyfriend's health.

"I don't know. However long it took me to walk from my house to yours. I'd guess about 4 or 5 hours."

"Oh, wow. No wonder you don't feel so good. Your face is a little flushed as well."

Blaine shuddered, remembering instances in the past where he'd been sick, yet his dad had continued to beat him, usually until he passed out.

He felt Kurt's hand on his and gave his head a shake, reminding himself that he was with a family that would treat him right. They wouldn't expect him to do anything if he was sick, unlike his dad who had insisted that he do the cooking and the washing and the cleaning…basically everything required to run a household. He'd always refused to hire a maid, believing that hard manual labor would make a man out of Blaine.

He smiled reassuringly at Kurt. "Sorry, got lost in the past."

"Care to share?" asked Kurt, willing Blaine to open up to him.

Sighing, Blaine said, "I was remembering times where I'd be sick—a temperature, nausea, the works—and Dad would come home and expect me to have made dinner, washed the clothes, dusted, housework that he felt would 'make a man' out of me. Don't know exactly where his logic was, considering that, statistically, housework has always been done by women. Anyway, if I'd failed to complete my assigned chores, even if I was sick, he would beat me, sometimes until I passed out."

Kurt stared in shock. Blaine had been through so much and still retained such a positive outlook on life, managing to inspire Kurt, even when his own life was hell.

Blaine kept his eyes trained on Kurt's bedspread, not wanting to see the disgust that was surely in his boyfriend's eyes. As Kurt tilted his chin up, Blaine closed his eyes, scared of rejection.

"Blaine, baby, look at me," Kurt pleaded.

Slowly, Blaine opened his eyes to find Kurt's locked on him, shining with love and admiration.

"You aren't…repulsed?" he asked in disbelief.

"No, Blaine. Never, certainly not with you. You've been through so much, yet you still manage to make everyone else around you happy. You inspired me, even when helping me face my bullies must have brought back painful memories. You're everything to me: my mentor, my best friend, my hero, and my lover. You're all I'll ever want. After all, why would I wait so long for you if I was going to give up at the first sign of trouble? I love you, Blaine Anderson, and nothing and nobody is ever going to change that."

Blaine tried sitting up, but was stopped by a spasm of pain, his torso objecting to the strain he was putting on his body. Exhausted, he collapsed back against the pillows.

Kurt, seeing his difficulty, moved to shift the pillows so that he could sit up, yet still lean against something soft for support.

Blaine slowly sat up, hissing in pain, yet refusing to cry, which was what he really wanted to do.

_No! Kurt will not see me in such a weakened state again,_ Blaine vowed.

"Now, how about breakfast?" asked Kurt in an attempt to change the subject and lighten the mood, for he'd sensed Blaine's reluctance to share anymore about his past.

"Sure. I'm starved," said Blaine.

_No lie,_ he thought. _I can't remember the last time I ate._

"Coming right up," said Kurt, leaning over to kiss Blaine before disappearing with promises of breakfast in bed.

Left alone with his thoughts, Blaine tried to be positive.

_At least Dad doesn't know about Kurt. That's something to be thankful for. There's a reason I've never had a boyfriend before—Dad would go after him, hunt him down and hurt him. I can't let that happen to Kurt. He's too good, too precious…_

"Here we go," announced Kurt cheerily, entering the room holding a tray piled with food. "I didn't know what you'd like, so I gave you a little bit of everything. I hope that's okay."

"That's fine, Kurt. Everything looks delicious."

Kurt set the tray on Blaine's lap and watched as his boyfriend took in all that was available: bacon, eggs, toast, and fruit.

There was a frightening rumble and Blaine glanced down at his stomach.

"Guess that's my cue to start eating," he said with a laugh.

Kurt carefully observed Blaine, who seemed to act as though the food would disappear.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked, doing his best to hide his rage at the idea of his boyfriend going without food.

"Uh…yesterday," said Blaine, though he couldn't look at Kurt.

This fact gave him away, and as the realization that his boyfriend had been starved, Kurt closed his eyes against the pain.

"How long?" asked Kurt, knowing that Blaine would pick up on his meaning.

Sighing, Blaine set down his fork. "It's pretty much a guarantee that I'm not going to eat dinner if I'm with my dad. During the day, when he's gone, I'm usually free to do as I please, so I'll grab something for breakfast and go out for lunch. Sometimes I'm able to sneak downstairs after he's gone to sleep and I'll raid the fridge for something to eat. Other times, I'm not so lucky."

"Now, the truth—did you eat yesterday?"

"No. The last time I ate was two days ago. Dad had locked me in my room, only letting me out to fix his dinner."

"Why would he lock you in your room?"

"I think his reasoning is that since I probably won't spend next summer with him—I'm hoping to move in to my college dorm early—he figures that this is his last chance to turn me straight and get me back on track, according to his 'plan' for me."

"That's sick and twisted!" Kurt declared.

Blaine gave a non-committal grunt and went back to eating.

After a moment of silence, Kurt spoke again, "What plan?"

"Even though he may hate me, he still counted on my being able to produce grandchildren and being willing to follow in his footsteps by becoming a lawyer. But I don't want to play his game, inheriting his reputation by going to an Ivy League school and all that jazz. I want to go to an art school somewhere and study music. I want to be a singer."

"Then that's what you'll be," said Kurt. "No one should try to plan out your life for you. Only you can decide who you are and who you're meant to be. And anything that anyone has said to the contrary is a lie. It's your life, you should be free to live it as you see fit."

Blaine had finished eating. "Thank you, Kurt. You always know what to say to make me feel better."

"Glad to be of service," said Kurt, cracking a smile. "Now, can I take that for you?" he asked, motioning to Blaine's empty plate.

"If it's not too much trouble," Blaine said.

"None at all," Kurt replied with a quick kiss before whisking Blaine's tray away.

* * *

><p>Kurt found his dad sitting at the kitchen table, reading the sport section of the newspaper.<p>

"Hey, kiddo," said Burt, looking up at Kurt's entrance. "How's Blaine? Did he eat all of that food you gave him?"

In reply, Kurt held up Blaine's plate, which looked as though it had been licked clean.

Burt whistled. "Boy, he must have been hungry."

"He was," Kurt said, voice simmering with barely suppressed rage. "He was being starved. He hadn't eaten for almost three days."

Burt clenched his jaw. "That's it—I'm not gonna stop till that son-of-a-bitch is rotting in a jail cell, preferably for life."

Kurt set Blaine's tray on the counter and ran to Burt, giving him a great big hug.

"Thanks, Dad, for taking Blaine in. It really means a lot to him, and to me."

"I know how important Blaine is to you, Kurt. I can see it in your eyes that you'd go to the ends of the earth for him. That being said, I would never turn him away. Even if you two weren't together, and he was just a friend, he'd always be welcome here for as long as was necessary."

"Thanks, Dad." Taking a look around, Kurt realized how quiet the house was. "Where's Carole? And Finn?"

"I think they went shopping for Blaine. Carole figured that he was going to be here for a while, so she went to get him some things and she brought Finn along so as to have a boy's opinion."

Kurt snorted at the idea of Finn giving an intelligent response to anything.

"As for you," said Burt, "Look after Blaine. Stay with him, make sure he's comfortable. I'm going to go down to the police station and see what I can do. Be careful. If you hear anything suspicious, anything at all, I want you to call either me or Carole, or both of us, and we'll come straight home. I'm not expecting any trouble, since I don't think Blaine's dad would know where to start looking for Blaine, even if he cared enough to. But, you never know."

"I promise, Dad. I'll protect Blaine, and myself. We'll be fine."

"Okay. Keep a baseball bat with you, as an added precaution."

"Sure, Dad."

"Okay, kiddo. I'm off."

"Bye, Dad. Love you."

"Love you too."

The door closed behind Burt, and Kurt turned to the sink to wash Blaine's dirty dishes.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Blaine was tormenting himself with the past. Memories flashed by him, like slides on a projector, reminding him of how broken he was and raising the question of why Kurt would want someone as weak and cowardly as he was.<p>

_He could do so much better than me,_ Blaine thought. _I mean, what can I give him? Heaven knows I could never protect him. Look at what happened when Karofsky went after me that time I tried talking to him. Kurt had to step in—Kurt, who's so delicate, like a porcelain doll. No, that's not completely true. He has this fire inside of him, a flame that's always burning and that gives him an inner-strength. That's what attracted me to him in the first place—that spark._

Blaine was interrupted from his musings by Kurt re-entering the room.

"Hope I haven't kept you waiting," said Kurt, moving to sit by Blaine.

"No, I was just thinking," said Blaine.

_Uh-oh. Now what?_ thought Kurt. _In his state, he shouldn't be left alone for too long._

"About what?" asked Kurt genially.

"Us, and how you could do so much better than me."

"Impossible!" said Kurt, outraged that Blaine could ever suggest such a thing.

"It's true!" Blaine protested. "What about what happened when I went with you to talk to Karofsky? He pushed me into a chain-link fence, and _you_, of all people, had to step in between us. You saved me when I had been expecting for you to be the one in need of rescue."

Kurt stared at him in disbelief. "And what's _that_ supposed to mean?" he asked icily. "You don't think I can take care of myself? I was doing fine before I met you. After all, wasn't it _you_ who suggested I stand up to ignorant bullies like Karofsky? And look where it got me!"

Kurt knew immediately that he had crossed a line when he saw Blaine's face crumple, as though he'd been punched in the gut.

"Blaine, I—" he began, reaching tentatively to establish contact between them.

Blaine shied away, and frankly, Kurt couldn't blame him. Kurt may as well have physically assaulted him, for his words had the same effect as his fists would have.

"That was below the belt, Kurt," said Blaine in a level voice that frightened Kurt, who had never heard him sound so lifeless.

"I'm so, so sorry, Blaine. I didn't mean that. You don't know the comfort your advice and encouragement gave to me. You made me smile when no one else could. You kept me sane. Blaine, in no way, shape, or form do I blame you for what happened with Karofsky, though I know you must blame yourself, at least partly. I would too, if I was in your shoes. Blame myself, I mean. Anyway, with or without you, I would have snapped eventually, probably with similar results. But you made all the difference, for you were there for me to turn to, and I'm grateful for that. Blaine, please believe me. You are not at fault. And even if you were, I would still love you."

"I'm sorry too, Kurt. I guess the last 24 hours have caused me to doubt everything I ever believed or trusted in, even you. I don't think you're incapable of taking care of yourself. I just don't think you should have to. And it kills me to know that it was my words that helped send you over the edge and confront Karofsky. But, at the same time, I know that you don't blame me. You're right—it probably would have happened sooner or later. I just would have preferred for it to not have happened at all."

"Forgive me?" they said at the same time, holding hands and rubbing soothing circles with their thumbs.

"Of course," they replied, once more speaking as one.

They laughed, and then Kurt leaned towards Blaine, as though asking his permission, and was rewarded with a kiss that tasted of possibly more fights, but the promise of making up and coming out stronger than ever.

Sighing contentedly, Kurt cuddled into Blaine's side, being mindful of his bruises.

"Hey," said Kurt suddenly, after they'd been cuddling for a while. "You wanna watch a movie?"

"Sure," said Blaine, smiling easily and grateful that their first fight was over and done with, all forgiven.

"You pick," said Kurt, waiting expectantly for Blaine's response.

"How about _The Princess Bride_?" Blaine suggested.

"As you wish," was Kurt's cheeky reply, accompanied with a smile that showed off his adorable dimples.

Blaine chuckled as Kurt got up to pop the DVD into the player before returning to snuggle against Blaine.

By the time they were watching Westley make the perilous climb up the Cliffs of Insanity to rescue his true love, Kurt realized that Blaine wasn't focused on the screen. Rather, he was playing with Kurt's hair.

Ordinarily, if it were anyone else, Kurt would have had no qualms about telling them to keep their hands to themselves. But this was Blaine, his boyfriend, and oddly, Kurt found it soothing to feel Blaine's fingers combing through his perfectly coiffed hair.

"What's on your mind?" he asked quietly, "Obviously not how well the color black suits Cary Elwes."

"Sorry, spaced out there for a minute." Blaine smiled down at Kurt, bending over to give the boy a kiss on his forehead.

"Anything you want to talk about?" Kurt sat up and stopped the movie, giving Blaine his full attention.

"I'm just...," Blaine struggled for words. "I'm really insecure, Kurt. The confident, happy-go-lucky guy that you and everyone else see—it's just a mask that I wear. What I said before, Kurt—you move me, to the point where I'm star-struck. I'm in awe of your talent and your beauty and so many other things, and I find myself asking what there is about me that could possibly be keeping you around." Blaine began crying, fearing that his insecurities would push Kurt away and make him leave. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I'm broken, damaged goods, and you're…Kurt, you're so fucking perfect."

Kurt was crying too, but managed to pull Blaine in for a quick, passionate kiss, before drawing back.

"Blaine," he began. "I love you, everything about you—even your flaws. And maybe it's your flaws that I love the most, for as I began to see the real you, I realized that the Blaine Anderson I'd fallen in love with was make-believe. So, I had to re-learn how to love you. And that made me fall all the harder. You may think that you're nothing, that I'm out of my mind for being attracted to you, but you're wrong. There are so many things to love about you: your curly hair that you insist be plastered down with gel, your bushy eyebrows, your tiny ears, your expressive eyes that make me feel as though you actually see me and can tell when I'm lying about whether I've had a good day or not, your hands, the strength of your arms when you hug me…I could go on and on, and I haven't even started on your personality."

Blaine smiled, his first real smile since the last day of school. "I think I'm convinced, Kurt. I'm awesome, right?"

"I'm not finished yet, Mister," said Kurt, shooting Blaine a mock-glare.

"My apologies, good sir. Please, continue listing my numerous virtues."

"Gladly. You're kind, caring, and compassionate. You have a heart of gold. You're loyal. When you sing, you're so playful that it makes me want to freeze time so that I can just drink in whatever silly expression is on your face. You have a wicked sense of humor. Your fashion sense could use some improvement, but there's time—I'll have my way with you yet…all this adds up to my heart and soul being eternally yours. I love you, Blaine Anderson."

For once, Blaine was speechless. No one had ever demonstrated such passion and devotion in regards to his well-being before. His dad had only ever cared that he became a lawyer and upheld the family honor.

"I…Thank you, Kurt. You've made me feel as though I'm a person of value again. I can't guarantee that I'll ever be over my insecurities. I may have days where I'm plagued by self-doubt and nothing you can say will talk me out of my depression. But my love for you will never go away, even if I may question your sanity at staying with me."

"All I want is to spend forever by your side," Kurt whispered.

"Then forever it shall be," said Blaine, welcoming Kurt into his arms.

Sighing contentedly, they snuggled as close as possible before settling down to continue watching _The Princess Bride_, glad that they'd talked and that everything was out in the open.

* * *

><p>Later that day, Burt returned home, surprised that Carole and Finn were still out.<p>

_They probably felt that Kurt and Blaine needed some time to themselves,_ he thought. _I'll just peek in and check on them, see that they're alright._

He went up the stairs and quietly knocked on Kurt's door. When there was no response, he eased the door open to discover the two boys in each other's arms, fast asleep.

Burt noticed that both boys' eyes were a little red.

_They must have talked some more,_ reasoned Burt. _Poor Blaine, he's been through a lot. But Kurt will see him through. They're good for each other._

Closing the door again to give them some privacy, he went downstairs at the same time that Carole and Finn arrived home.

"How are the boys?" asked Carole.

"They appear to have been watching a movie but fell asleep. I'd leave them be for now. They look drained."

"Poor dears," said Carole sympathetically. "How were things down at the station?"

"Apparently, Blaine's dad is some hot-shot lawyer and the officers, at first, were disbelieving that someone as influential as George Anderson would abuse his son. But when I began describing Blaine's behavior and where the bruises were and Blaine's state when we found him on our porch, I was taken seriously. Someone will be over tomorrow to get Blaine's testimony. Then they're going to arrest George Anderson," Burt spat out the name, "and make sure he's locked up for good."

"Thank God!" Carole exclaimed in relief.

"That's awesome," said Finn, a big dopey grin on his face. "Blaine's cool and doesn't deserve all that crap."

"No, he doesn't. So, to make up for what he's been through, we're going to make him feel welcome. This is his home for now and he should feel comfortable here," said Carole.

"Sure, Mom," Finn replied, before lumbering off to play some video game.

"What do you think about asking Blaine if he wants to live here permanently?" Carole asked Burt, after Finn's departure.

"I think it's a wonderful idea. It should be his choice, but I have no problem with it. He needs Kurt right now, they both need each other. I've watched them together and it's something to see. It's as though they can read each other's mind. They're so in-tune with each other and their surroundings."

"I agree. How about when the boys wake up for dinner, we talk to them?"

"Sounds good," Burt replied.

* * *

><p>Upstairs, Blaine and Kurt were stirring.<p>

"Hey," said Blaine sleepily, pulling Kurt close for a quick kiss.

"Hey, yourself," Kurt replied, smiling against Blaine's lips.

"We should get up," said Blaine.

Kurt groaned. "No, I'm too comfortable."

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Kurt called.

Burt and Caroled poked their heads in before entering.

Blaine sat up, easing Kurt away slightly. He didn't want Kurt's parents to get the wrong idea and kick him out the same way his dad had. Blaine winced slightly at the sudden movement.

"Relax, kid," said Burt. "You're not in trouble."

Blaine visibly relaxed.

"You're safe, Blaine. And I trust you and Kurt to be responsible."

Blaine nodded. "Thank you, si—Burt."

"I wanted to talk to you both."

"What is it, Dad?" asked Kurt, picking up on his serious tone of voice.

"I've been down to the police station," Burt revealed. "I told them about you, Blaine, and your situation, and they're going to arrest your father tomorrow. Someone is also going to come over to get your testimony."

"He'll be gone?" asked Blaine, desperately wanting to believe.

"Yes, Blaine. You'll be free of him. Now, you're going to need a home. Carole and I have already offered ours to you for the time being. We'd like to make that permanent. What do you say?"

Both Kurt and Blaine were flabbergasted.

"Live…here? With you?" Blaine was having trouble forming coherent sentences.

"Yes."

"I…I don't know what to say." He looked at Kurt. "Wait, yes, I do—I would love to live with you. Over the past 24 hours, you've shown me more kindness than I've ever received before, excluding my time at Dalton."

"Welcome to the family, Blaine," said Kurt quietly.

"We'll leave you two alone," said Carole, standing and patting their legs gently. "Dinner will be soon. I'll send Finn up for you."

"Thanks, Carole," said Kurt, eyes still locked with Blaine.

"Thank you, both, for everything," said Blaine sincerely.

"You're welcome, Blaine," said Burt. "I've seen how Kurt looks at you and I wouldn't be able to face him if I left you to suffer."

"Thanks, Dad," said Kurt, turning his head to face Burt.

Burt squeezed his shoulder in reassurance before leaving with Carole.

The door closed behind them and Kurt and Blaine were left on their own.

* * *

><p>"What just happened?" asked Blaine, who was still in shock.<p>

Kurt chuckled. "You've just been inducted into the Order of the Phoenix. Congratulations."

They shared a laugh, before Blaine turned serious once more. "Kurt, I'm afraid to let myself believe. Nothing's ever gone right for me before. Why should this be any different?"

"I'll tell you why: because we're together and you have a home and a family that won't abandon you. This time, happiness is here to stay."

At hearing Kurt's assurances, Blaine pulled him close, only releasing him when Kurt accidently landed on a massive bruise covering his abdomen.

At Blaine's muted groan, Kurt instantly retreated.

"Blaine, I'm so sorry," he said, filled with remorse at further injuring his boyfriend.

"It's fine, Kurt." Blaine gritted his teeth against the pain, determined not to cry. Releasing a shaky breath, he said, "I think it's time I get out of bed. Staying still will only cause me to stiffen up."

"Okay," said Kurt, by Blaine's side in an instant.

Carefully, he helped Blaine swing his legs over the side and stand up.

Experimenting, Blaine walked over to Kurt's full-length mirror and began to pull off his shirt. He gasped from the strain such movement put on his muscles.

"Here," said Kurt, moving to ease the shirt over Blaine's head.

Both stared in the mirror. Overnight, Blaine's bruises had blossomed to various shades of purple, green, and yellow. His black eye was also very prominent.

"Oh, baby. I'm so sorry," said Kurt, wrapping his arms around Blaine's waist and planting a kiss on his neck.

"Don't be," said Blaine. "If a few bruises gave me a chance at a new start with you, Burt, Carole, and Finn, then it's a small price to pay for my future happiness."

Kurt spun Blaine around and kissed him squarely on the mouth.

"God, you're amazing, you know that? To have such an upbeat attitude after all that's happened…you inspire me, Blaine Anderson, and I only hope that I can become half the man that you are today."

"You're just as amazing, Kurt. You stayed at McKinley, despite the bullies, until things became too serious to be ignored anymore. You're my inspiration, just as you say that I am yours."

Simultaneously, they moved together, stars exploding behind their shut eyelids with the passion of their kiss.

Caught up in the moment, they failed to hear either the knocking or the door being opened, until there was the very loud sound of a throat being cleared.

"Umm…Sorry to interrupt, but Mom wanted me to tell you that it's dinner."

Reluctantly, Kurt and Blaine pulled away and turned to face Finn, who stood in the doorway looking decidedly uncomfortable. His eyes widened noticeably when Kurt stood to the side, revealing a shirtless Blaine with his bruises on full display.

"Wow, dude, those look painful."

"No shit, Sherlock," Kurt spat out, immediately on the defensive.

"Whoa, Kurt, chill out. I was just making an observation. Blaine, I can help, if you want. I know a little about treating athletic injuries. Sometimes, in football practice, we get really beat up from slamming into each other, so Coach always makes sure we have bandages and ointment in our lockers."

Kurt relaxed at Finn's peace offering.

"Thanks, Finn. I'd appreciate that," said Blaine.

"Great. Come on."

Wordlessly, Blaine and Kurt followed Finn to his room.

"Finn, you are such a slob" said Kurt as they stepped inside. "It looks like your closet exploded."

"Whatever." Finn shrugged off Kurt's criticism. "Here," he said, emerging from his bathroom bearing bandages and cream to ease any swelling. "I'll just dab this on and wrap you up."

So, Blaine submitted to having Finn carefully spread the ointment over his body before being tightly encased in bandages.

"Thanks, Finn," he said, pausing to catch his breath so as to hide the pain that had shot through him at the pressure being put on his torso.

"Anytime, dude. I want you to get better 'cause you're really important to Kurt; you make him happy. You're his world. Just a warning, since we haven't had a chance to talk before now: hurt him and it'll be the last thing you do."

"Finn—" Kurt exclaimed.

"Duly noted," said Blaine, giving a wry chuckle. "Don't worry. I have no intention of hurting Kurt, and if I do, you, Burt, and New Directions can have your way with me."

"There won't be any need for that," said Kurt firmly, starting to guide Blaine back towards his room while shooting Finn a dirty look.

"It's okay, Kurt," said Blaine. "I'm not insulted. I've actually been wondering when I would get 'the talk.' "

Kurt rolled his eyes, smiling indulgently, "Alright, then. Let's get a shirt for you to wear."

Keeping an arm around Blaine, Kurt walked back to his room, tossing Blaine the shirt he'd been wearing before.

"Kurt…could you help me?" asked Blaine hesitantly.

"Of course, Blaine," said Kurt gently, walking behind Blaine and taking the shirt, guiding Blaine's head through it. He stopped at his shoulders though, for he noticed something that he hadn't before. "What's this?" he asked, touching some raised marks scattered across Blaine's well-muscled shoulders.

"Oh, those," Blaine acted as though the scars were nothing, "Left over from Dad hitting me with his belt buckle."

Kurt gasped, but said nothing else as he put Blaine's shirt on for him. He then turned Blaine so that they were facing each other.

"I love you, Blaine. You're still beautiful and sexy and wonderful to me, no matter what your dad has said or done to convince you otherwise. You are proud and strong and brave, and I still have trouble accepting that someone as amazing as you could ever want to be with me."

They held each other, standing in each other's arms for several minutes.

"You are just as amazing as you say that I am, Kurt," Blaine whispered into his ear. "And, for the record, I love you too."

Kurt gasped. That was the first time Blaine had said…those words. Kurt couldn't help it. He launched himself at Blaine and smashed their lips together.

"God, I love you so much," he whispered in between frenzied kisses.

"Kurt," Blaine said, sounding as though he were having trouble focusing. "We should go downstairs before Carole sends Finn up, or worse, Burt."

"Right, right," That thought sobered up Kurt and he reluctantly pulled away. "Let's go, then."

Holding hands, they made their way downstairs.

* * *

><p>Dinner was uneventful.<p>

Blaine basked in the normality of it all, the way he was able to be himself.

_I don't have to hide who I am,_ he thought. He shot Kurt his special smile, the one reserved just for him.

"So, Blaine," he heard, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from Kurt and face Burt.

"Yes, si—?" he began, catching himself before he could called Burt 'sir.'

_Damn, I need to stop doing that. He isn't my father. He's not going to beat me senseless for failing to show him the 'proper respect.'_

"We were wondering if you'd like to pick the movie tonight," said Burt, pulling Blaine from his thoughts.

"Uh…sure," said Blaine rather hesitantly, still unsure as to how much he would be included in family affairs considering he wasn't a blood relative, just the boyfriend who was living with them after being kicked out by his own father.

"Come on, I'll show you what we have," said Kurt, grabbing Blaine's hand and pulling him from the table.

Blaine was led into the living room. Kurt directed him towards several shelves lined with DVDs and old VHS tapes.

"What looks good?" Kurt asked.

Blaine considered for a moment, before making his selection. "Australia," he decided.

Kurt smiled widely. "Great. I'll pop it in. Everyone else will be here in a minute. Make yourself comfortable."

Blaine went and sat on the couch, hoping that he wasn't taking anyone's preferred spot.

_Obviously not, _thought Blaine, as Kurt sat as close to him as possible without being in his lap.

Burt, Carole, and Finn trouped in, making no comment as to Kurt and Blaine's seating arrangement.

Everyone settled down to watch the movie, with limited interruptions.

By the end, Finn had dozed off, as had Burt. Carole had tears in her eyes, and Kurt and Blaine were sniffling slightly.

The credits rolled and Carole got up to turn the lights back on, waking up her sleeping son and husband.

Good nights were quick. Everyone was tired and wanted to turn in.

Blaine thanked Burt and Carole once more for their hospitality, before allowing Kurt to lead him upstairs.

They were quiet as they got ready for bed, climbing under the covers and immediately moving to wrap their arms around each other.

"Good night, Kurt," Blaine whispered into the darkened room.

"Good night, Blaine. I love you," Kurt whispered back.

"I love you too."

With a kiss to Kurt's forehead, Blaine settled down for a peaceful night's sleep, while Kurt snuggled as close as possible, feeling safe and protected (not to mention warm) in Blaine's embrace.


	3. Chapter 3

**My apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. First, school got in the way. I was busy studying for exams and writing papers. Then, once summer started, I got sick. I had no energy and sort of lost interest in this story. Now, I'm back, and fully committed to my writing. **

**The first part of this chapter, up until Burt drives Kurt and Blaine to Blaine's house, was written while I was at school and still feeling kind of depressed. Hence, the angst that Blaine experiences. The rest was written recently, and is fluffier because I'm happier. Cheers, everyone, and enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Kurt's eyes opened suddenly in the early morning hours. He wondered what would have caused him to wake up…and then he felt Blaine collide with him.<p>

_That's gonna bruise,_ Kurt thought wryly.

"Blaine, baby, wake up," Kurt urged.

Blaine's eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright.

"Wha—" he began. "What happened?"

"You were tossing and turning. Bad dream?"

"Yeah," Blaine let out a shaky breath. "I was back at Dad's house. He was beating me, worse than usual. You rushed in to save me, but he turned and began doing to you what he'd been doing to me. When I tried to interfere, to protect you, he blocked me. When I could finally get by, it was too late—you were gone. Then—" Here, Blaine's voice broke. "I begged him to end my life, so I could join you. He just laughed, and said that _fags_ didn't deserve happiness and that I'd _chosen_ to be the way I was. Therefore, he felt justified in taking my happiness from me—you."

"Oh, Blaine. Shh, I'm here, I'm safe, I'm not going anywhere," Kurt whispered over and over again, holding Blaine close and rubbing his back in soothing circles.

"Then, I woke up. I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

"No, Blaine, don't apologize. I'm glad that I could be here for you."

Blaine breathed deeply, willing himself not to cry.

"It's okay, Blaine. Let it out."

At Kurt's words, Blaine forgot all about restraint and began sobbing into Kurt's chest.

Kurt, for his part, just held Blaine and allowed him the release that he so desperately needed.

After what felt like hours, but was really just a few minutes, Blaine pulled away to look at Kurt through bleary eyes.

"You're amazing for putting up with all my crap," he said at last. "You've seen me cry so many times in the last two days. Yet, you continue to stand by me."

"Well, of course," said Kurt, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I love you, and for better or for worse, I'll be there for you. As for me seeing you cry, you saw me cry at our very first meeting. Yet I've never seen you lose your composure. I was beginning to think that you didn't have tear ducts. Although I regret the circumstances that have led to you crying in front of me, I'm glad to see you in this state. You aren't invincible and you don't need to portray yourself as such. I'll love you, no matter what."

"Thank you," said Blaine, clinging to Kurt as though he were his lifeline. "You always know the right thing to say."

"I try," said Kurt, doing his best to smile encouragingly at Blaine. Truthfully, though, it killed him to see his lover suffering and he found himself wishing that he were in Blaine's place.

Blaine snuggled closer to Kurt, seeking the comfort that only he could provide.

"Shh, just close your eyes and try to sleep," advised Kurt. "The pain won't go away overnight, but it _will_ get better. I promise."

Blaine sighed contentedly, feeling at peace due to their close proximity.

"I love you," he mumbled.

"I love you too, Blaine Anderson," Kurt replied. "Always have, always will."

As Blaine slept, Kurt held him, listening to his breathing and sometimes playing with his curls. He enjoyed the sight of Blaine resting peacefully, not a care or a worry to trouble him. The sun rose, but Kurt refrained from disturbing Blaine. It seemed a shame to do so when he was so relaxed.

That soon changed though, as Blaine began to whimper quietly, as well as struggle in Kurt's arms.

Kurt wondered what to do. Finally, he decided to sing to Blaine.

_After all_, he reasoned, _Blaine's_ _voice has always soothed me. Maybe the same can be true of my voice for him. Now, what song should I sing? It has to be something gentle, something that will let Blaine know that I'll always be here for him._

Kurt remembered a song he'd hear once that beautifully summed up the message that he wanted to send to Blaine.

As Blaine's movements became more violent, Kurt opened his mouth and began to sing:

_I'll be your candle on the water_

_My love for you will always burn_

_I know you're lost and drifting_

_But the clouds are lifting_

_Don't give up_

_You have somewhere to turn_

Kurt felt Blaine go still beneath him and smiled at his success. Through song, he sought to let Blaine know that he understood his problems; he understood the pain that he had gone through. But now that Blaine had Kurt, he would never have to be alone, ever again, for Kurt would always stand by him.

_I'll be your candle on the water_

_Till every wave is warm and bright_

_My soul is there beside you_

_Let this candle guide you_

_Soon you'll see a golden stream of light_

As Kurt sang, he felt his hand receive a gentle squeeze and realized that Blaine had woken up—or had always been so. Despite being startled, Kurt carried on, his voice gaining in strength, even as he realized that this particular song might be hitting a little too close to home for the both of them.

_A cold and friendless tide has found you_

_Don't let the stormy darkness pull you down_

_I'll paint a ray of hope around you_

_Circling in the air_

_Lighted by a prayer_

Just as Blaine had given him courage, Kurt hoped to do the same for Blaine. He meant everything to Kurt. If Blaine lost hope, Kurt didn't know what he'd do; he didn't know how he'd exist without Blaine and their coffee dates and musical dates and dinner dates and all the countless other things that they did together.

_I'll be your candle on the water_

_This flame inside of me will grow_

_Keep holding on _

_You'll make it_

_Here's my hand, so take it_

_Look for me, reaching out to show_

_As sure as rivers flow_

_I'll never let you go_

_I'll never let you go_

_I'll never let you go_

Kurt finished quietly. Their original position had seen Blaine nestled in to Kurt's side. By the end of the song, though Blaine was still lying on Kurt's chest, Kurt had reached for Blaine's hand and intertwined their fingers, symbolizing his resolve to always be there for Blaine.

"Kurt, that was beautiful," Blaine said at last, mesmerized by the sound of Kurt's angelic voice and the fact that this wonderful boy reciprocated his feelings.

"I meant every word," said Kurt. "I will never let you go. Even if, God forbid, we decide to break up, I will always be your friend and will be there for you whenever you need me."

"Well, I don't think we need to worry about breaking up anytime soon, 'cause I don't plan on ever letting you go either. I love you, Kurt Hummel, and I've realized something in the last two days: what I'm going through is a part of life, however unfair it may seem. And if we can see each other through this, then we can see each other through anything."

Kurt held Blaine—if possible—even closer. No words were needed. Ever since Blaine had knocked on Kurt's door, in the pouring rain, they had laid themselves bare and exposed themselves completely to each other.

Having reached a new level of understanding as to their future, the two boys settled back down to sleep, or at least doze.

They were woken up a short time later by Burt, who informed them that breakfast was ready. Taking in their appearance (red, puffy eyes, etc.), Burt quickly excused himself, leaving Kurt and Blaine to their morning routine.

"Hey," said Kurt, leaning over to plant a light kiss on Blaine's forehead. "Feel better?"

"Yeah," said Blaine, sounding surprised to find himself in such high spirits. "Thank you for your little pep talks, and the song you sang. It was perfect." Blaine paused a moment, making sure that Kurt was looking at him. "_You're_ perfect, Kurt. I love you."

"I love you too," Kurt replied, closing the distance between them and kissing Blaine, practically molding their lips together.

"I still can't believe I get to do this whenever I want," Blaine murmured softly. "I get to hold you and kiss you and say 'I love you' and call you adorable pet names…"

"Nothing too outlandish," warned Kurt.

They laughed, and with another quick peck, they forced themselves to get up.

Kurt immediately went to Blaine, though he waited to see if Blaine wanted any help, or if he would even ask, if the need arose.

Respectfully, Kurt turned his back as Blaine shed his pajama bottoms.

"You can look, Kurt," Blaine informed him. "I want you to."

Kurt found himself speechless.

"Blaine," he whispered, shocked by what he saw.

"I had to find an outlet, a form of pain that _I_ could control," said Blaine, shrugging off the years of self-harm, the evidence of which was scattered across his legs.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt whispered again, transfixed by the sight of the scars running up and down Blaine's legs.

As though in a trance, Kurt knelt down in front of Blaine and began to gently touch every individual scar, placing a light kiss on each one, as though he could heal Blaine with his love and make all the pain that he had suffered through go away.

Blaine closes his eyes, overcome by the sheer intimacy of Kurt's actions.

"I haven't cut since meeting you," Blaine whispered, as he watched Kurt almost reverently work his way up one leg and down the other. "And having you in my life has made me never want to cut again."

"You're still beautiful to me," Kurt whispered, continuing to kneel as he looked up at Blaine.

In nothing but his boxers and Finn's old t-shirt, Blaine knelt as well, so as to be level with Kurt.

"You gave me the courage to go on, Kurt," Blaine confessed. "Without you around, one day I may have cut in just the right way so as to end my life. But you—" Cupping Kurt's face in his hands, Blaine smiled through the tears that he realized were pouring down his face, "You gave my life meaning, gave me a reason to keep living. You became the light at the end of the tunnel for me."

They were both crying again as Kurt threw himself at Blaine, who went tumbling to the ground, yet still made sure to land in such a way as to cushion Kurt's fall.

"If you ever feel the urge to…to cut," said Kurt, choking on his own tears, "I want you to tell me, no matter the time, and we'll talk through whatever you're feeling. I believe you when you say you've stopped and that you won't cut again. But…just in case…know that I'm here."

"I promise," said Blaine, voice as serious as Kurt had ever heard.

"I love you," said Kurt, matching Blaine's tone in the hopes of convincing Blaine how important he was and how empty Kurt's life would be if he were to lose Blaine, permanently.

They held each other for a few more minutes before reluctantly pulling away, realizing that if they didn't hurry, Burt would come looking for them.

"I don't want anyone to know," said Blaine. "I don't need another reason for people to look at me with pity."

"Alright," said Kurt agreeably, reasoning that if he were in Blaine's position, he wouldn't want anyone to know either.

They stood, and Blaine reached for his jeans. Afterwards, Kurt carefully helped him take off his shirt and re-bandage his torso.

With practice, Kurt was becoming better at not gasping every time he saw the bruises littering Blaine's chest and back. After two days, though, the bruises were horrific—splotches of mottled skin that would cause Blaine to wince if even the slightest pressure was put on them.

Once he'd finished with Blaine, Kurt quickly dressed himself, for once, not worrying about what he looked like. He and Blaine had seen each other at their worst. Blaine wasn't going to judge him for being less put-together than normal.

"Come on," he said gently, offering Blaine his hand.

Hands clasped, they went downstairs for breakfast.

"Finally," Burt exclaimed as they walked into the kitchen. "I was wondering what had happened to you two."

"Sorry, Mr. Hummel," said Blaine, suddenly nervous.

"Don't worry about it, Blaine. What kept you?"

"We had some things to talk about," Kurt replied, evasively.

Burt nodded in understanding. "Well, have a seat. Pancakes are coming up."

Blaine looked as though he wanted to help, but Kurt tugged him towards the table. They sat next to each other, smiling and conversing easily with Finn and Carole, who sat opposite them.

As Burt joined them, handing out plates stacked with pancakes, everyone avoided mentioning the impending police visit.

Kurt kept his and Blaine's hands joined, refusing to be parted even for an instant.

* * *

><p>It was shortly after breakfast when there was a knock at the door.<p>

Blaine and Kurt were in the kitchen, tidying up, when Burt went to answer the door.

"Come in, Officer," they heard.

Wiping his hands, Blaine made to head for the living room. Kurt followed, turning Blaine to face him and giving him a short but passionate, mind-blowing kiss.

"Courage," he whispered.

Blaine smiled appreciatively and nodded, before grabbing Kurt's hand and striding into the living room.

Burt and Carole were seated on the couch, the officer in the armchair. Finn was leaning awkwardly against the wall, unsure of where he should be but wanting to support Kurt and his boyfriend.

Blaine and Kurt entered, presenting themselves as a united force.

The officer stood and Burt moved to introduce the two boys.

"Officer Pierce, this is my son, Kurt, and his boyfriend, Blaine Anderson."

"Kurt, Blaine," said the officer, shaking each boy's hand and trying not to stare at Blaine's black eye.

The two boys sat on the loveseat opposite Officer Pierce.

"Now then," he said, "Let's get right to business. Mr. Hummel has brought to my attention that your father has been abusing you, Blaine. Is this true?"

"Yes, sir, it is," replied Blaine, clutching at Kurt's hand.

This action did not go unnoticed by the officer, who shot the boys a friendly smile.

"Unfortunately, we cannot make an arrest based on the words of just one man. We're going to need evidence. Can you provide this for us?"

"Yes, I can," said Blaine. "Kurt?" he turned to the boy beside him.

Wordlessly, Kurt stood and helped Blaine remove his shirt. Officer Pierce was visibly startled at the expansive bandage covering Blaine's body. Kurt began to unwind the material and Officer Pierce, ever the stoic, found himself fighting back a gasp of disbelief and disgust at the sight he was presented with.

Blaine met his gaze evenly. "Is that enough evidence, Officer?" he asked, tone polite, yet tinged with a hint of sarcasm.

Officer Pierce nodded. "Yes. I'll just have to get some pictures, to document the abuse."

"Of course," said Blaine.

The next few minutes were spent snapping photos of Blaine from all sides. Officer Pierce was very thorough, determined to capture ever angle.

Finished at last, Officer Pierce stowed his camera in his bag and shook hands with everyone, saving Blaine for last.

"I'm so sorry," he said, tough exterior softening momentarily. Business-like once more, he continued: "You'll receive a call when the arrest has been made, which should be some time this afternoon. Again, I'm so sorry for what you've gone through. Justice _will_ be served."

"Thank you, Officer," said Blaine, at a loss as to what to say. The officer's words were few, but meaningful.

With a reassuring smile at Blaine and Kurt, Officer Pierce turned to shake hands with Burt a final time. Then, he was gone.

* * *

><p>"Wanna watch a movie?" asked Kurt, who was lying on his bed with Blaine.<p>

Now that the hubbub caused by Officer Pierce's visit had died down—Blaine insisted on everyone acting as though nothing were out of the ordinary—the two were taking time to bask in each other's company.

"Sure," said Blaine agreeably.

Moving out of the security of Blaine's arms, and biting back a moan at the loss of contact, Kurt knelt by his DVD collection and made his selection, popping it into the machine before settling himself once more by Blaine, who immediately wrapped his arms around him.

He laughed when the menu popped up and he saw what Kurt had chosen. "I love Aladdin!" he exclaimed.

"I know," Kurt replied simply, leaning up to capture Blaine's lips with his.

The boys enjoyed their afternoon, spending their time watching Disney movies, with Blaine singing the male lead and Kurt singing the female lead.

They'd just finished watching 'Mulan,' which had been preceded by 'Sleeping Beauty,' when Burt entered, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Officer Pierce just called," he announced.

Kurt and Blaine, who had been laughing moments before, sobered immediately.

"Blaine, your father has been arrested and, furthermore, has been refused bail. You're safe."

Blaine visibly relaxed, sagging against Kurt.

"Do you want to go to your house and collect anything?"

"Yeah," Blaine replied. "There are a few things I'd like to get."

"Okay. I'll get the car started. You boys will be down in a few minutes?"

"Yeah, Dad, we'll be right there," Kurt supplied.

Burt nodded, shooting Blaine a reassuring smile, before leaving the boys alone once more.

Kurt pulled Blaine into an upright position, moving to sit opposite his boyfriend and taking his hands in his own, rubbing soothing circles along the skin.

"You gonna be alright?" he asked Blaine, concernedly.

"Of course, I'll have you by my side," said Blaine.

"And I intend to stay there, forever and always."

"I love you," said Blaine seriously, bringing their lips together for a quick kiss.

Kurt pulled away smiling, just as Burt honked the horn.

"That'll be for us," he said regretfully, "Let's go." He grasped Blaine's hand and tugged him out of the room, down the stairs, and towards the car.

"Alright, kids. Let's get this show on the road," said Burt, as cheerfully as he could, considering the situation.

And with that, they were off.

* * *

><p>Their journey was relatively uneventful, spent listening to music, Kurt and Blaine singing at the top of their lungs in an attempt to forget where they were going and why.<p>

As they neared Blaine's former home, the car quieted as Blaine began giving terse directions. They pulled into the driveway in stunned silence.

"This is where you lived?" asked Kurt in amazement.

"Yeah," Blaine replied indifferently.

Blaine's former residence was an expansive mansion—a typical Southern home that emulated a bygone era.

"I feel like Scarlett O'Hara," quipped Kurt upon entering the broad foyer. So saying, he turned in a dramatic circle and gave his audience a demure curtsy.

"Blaine, I guess that makes you Rhett Butler," said Burt with a laugh.

"I'm honored," said Blaine, bowing from the waist down as he grasped Kurt's hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to the knuckles.

Kurt stared at him in awe, clutching his hand to his heart.

"Why, Mr. Butler—you send me," he wailed, pretending to swoon.

Blaine, ever the dapper gentleman, sprung forward and gently caught Kurt before he could hit the floor. Laughing, he kept Kurt enfolded in his arms, refusing to part with him. They swayed together for several moments, content with who they were and their situation in life.

Placing several kisses along Kurt's neck, Blaine drew away, saying, "I'm just gonna go grab my stuff. I'll be right back."

Kurt looked worried. "You want me to come with you?"

"No, thanks. I'll be fine."

"Alright." Kurt nodded resignedly.

Planting one more kiss on Kurt—this time, directly on his lips—Blaine turned and walked away, up the spiral staircase to his room.

* * *

><p>Opening his bedroom door, Blaine was unprepared for the sight awaiting him.<p>

His room was completely trashed—gashes lined the pale walls, the carpet was torn up, his bedspread had been decimated…

Blaine gave a humorless chuckle and—sidestepping the debris littering the floor—carefully made his way to where the secret compartment containing all his worldly possessions was.

Prying the hidden compartment open, Blaine gave a sigh of relief—his treasures were undamaged.

Shouldering his backpack and picking up the single suitcase, Blaine gave his room a final glance before closing the door—effectively shutting out everything relating to his father—for good.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, downstairs, Kurt was restlessly pacing.<p>

"He'll be fine, Kurt. Just relax," coaxed Burt.

"What if there are booby traps up there, or something? I wouldn't put it past him. His father is the devil personified," Kurt declared. "Did you, or did you not, see the bruises and scars marring Blaine's beautiful skin? I mean, who would do that to their own flesh and blood?"

"Only someone who's sick in the head," Burt replied at last, having been drawn back into his memories of the night Blaine had arrived—soaked to the bone and covered in bruises.

"I swear—George Anderson will not see the light of day again. Not while there's a breath left in my body. He is going to rot in prison for the rest of his life, and he is going to rue the day that he crossed Kurt Hummel."

"Bravo!" sounded a voice from the stairwell, accompanied by the sound of someone clapping.

Kurt and Burt turned to find Blaine on the last step, smiling adoringly at Kurt in the same manner as he had while singing at Regionals.

"H-how long were you standing there?" Kurt stammered.

"Long enough. Thank you, Kurt. No one's ever defended me so vehemently before."

"Well, get used to it, kid," said Burt, pulling both boys in for a hug. "You're part of the family now."

Blaine closed his eyes, a tender smile flitting across his features. _Family,_ he thought. _Now there's something to get used to._

* * *

><p>There would be hard times ahead. Not everyone would get along, all of the time. But they drew strength from the knowledge that they had each other's backs—no matter what.<p>

For example, when the Hummel-Hudson's—as a _family_—went to confront Blaine's father, it was then that Blaine introduced Kurt as his boyfriend, for his father was safely behind bars and unable to harm those that Blaine loved.

Kurt and Blaine were there for Finn during his and Rachel's numerous break-ups and hook-ups. Through all of the ups-and-downs of Finchel's relationship, they were brothers—not by blood, but by choice.

Burt and Carole were each other's support system when their boys—including Blaine—went off to college in New York City, leaving Lima as far behind them as was possible.

At the time of the three boys' graduation, they were together again—in the city where dreams could be made or broken, but where fairy tales and happy endings proved in their existence with Kurt and Blaine's wedding.

As the years passed, the Hummel-Hudson boys—Kurt, Finn, and Blaine—added to the already-eccentric family dynamic by marrying, settling down, and raising their families.

And when Burt and Carole passed away—within hours of each other—the Hummel-Hudson boys gathered once again to share in the grief they were each feeling, proving, once and for all, that family was forever.

Finn was the next to go, with Rachel following shortly after. Now, only Kurt and Blaine were left, as well as their various children and grandchildren.

It came as no surprise, then, when Kurt and Blaine's eldest child, Moira, tip-toed in one morning to discover her fathers had passed away during the night in each other's arms.

They'd gone the way they'd always planned—in their sleep, together.

* * *

><p><strong>I can't believe this is over. Once again, I apologize for the delay. The muses were blocking my creativity in regards to this story, but they came back and now it's finished! =)<strong>

**I have to say, by far, my favorite part of this chapter was when Kurt and Blaine were imitating Scarlett O'Hara and Rhett Butler. I was in one of my college English classes the other day, and we were talking about slavery in the South. Somehow, we got on the topic of 'Gone With the Wind' . . . and, tada - my inspiration.**

**I hope everyone enjoyed this story. I know the subject of child abuse is a touchy subject for many, and I am, in no way, condoning it. But I felt that Blaine's past was left relatively unexplored, and with his comment about him and his dad fixing a car, I came up with this idea and ran with it.**

**That said, I hope you take a moment to check out my other stories. I've written several for 'Glee,' revolving around the relationship of Kurt/Blaine and Jesse/Rachel. **

**Until next time, then. Cheers!**


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